Tales from Raccoon City: The Bioweapons Defense Company
by The Lady Frost
Summary: They're selling dreams - they're not selling paper. But they're selling...something. (An Office parody staring everyones favorite RE characters)


**Raccoon City, Pennsylvania**

**BSAA Bioweapons Defense Company**

"So, just…try to ignore us ok? We're not even here. We're ghosts right? Just ghosts." Said Clancy the cameraman. "Just do your thing and we'll record it. That's it. No pressure."

Sitting at his desk, Chris Redfield was trying to be comfortable with the fact that the television crew was watching him. It was part of the thing when one agreed to allow cameras into the office to show how bio-terrorism protected the world at large.

He shifted to study the man across from him. The face was handsome and wry. It was patiently waiting for instruction. Chris was trying to figure out how to be the boss here and be authoritative and not embarrass himself in front of the cameras.

The handsome man in question, Leon Kennedy, glanced at the camera and lifted his brows.

Chris said, "So…your last sales call was…it was pretty fucking awful."

Leon shifted in his seat. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. You don't know how to speak to a person in charge. Obviously."

"I don't?"

"No. You came to the master for guidance, clearly. I've been in this game a lot longer than you, kid. Let me show you." He picked up the phone to make the call. The camera zoomed in on his face as he spoke, "Hello there! This is Chris Redfield, regional manager of the Raccoon branch of the BSAA. I hear you spoke to one of my salesman this morning. Mmhm. Yep. Well, he's not very good."

And now Chris laughed.

Leon glanced at the camera and lifted a brow again.

The camera panned back to Chris.

"Mmhmm. That's right. We'll offer you weapons to fight all your bioterrorism troubles for HALF of what the other company does. Mmhmm. That's right. HALF of what Umbrella Inc. offered you. Yep. That's RIGHT, my GOOD SIR! You are a gentleman and a scholar!"

The silence stretched out. Chris winced. Leon pursed his lips.

And finally Chris said, "Yes. No. No I understand. I'm sorry. I am. Right. Ok. Thank you."

He hung up the phone. The camera panned to his face. Chris said, softly, "So…that wasn't a man. But she had a VERY deep voice. Probably a smoker."

Leon coughed a little and smirked behind his hand.

The camera followed Chris out of his office and to the front reception desk. Chris drummed excitedly on it and startled the pretty girl behind it. "JILLLLL! Jilly BEAN! What's up girl? How you doin?"

Jill, a pretty thing with dark bobbed hair and blue eyes, shifted in her rolling chair. "Chris, good morning."

Chris turned to the camera. "This is Jill Valentine. JILLY BEAN. Our receptionist. She's worked here…what, Jill? Like FOREVER right? Like a hundred years. Since 98? You think she's hot now? You should have seen her when she started here." Chris made a growl sound.

Jill looked offended and uncomfortable.

"Yeah. She was a total office hottie back then. Seriously." He shifted to look at her again. "Any messages, Jill?"

Jill handed him a fax. "Just this fax."

Chris looked at it. "Ew. Ugh. This is from CORPORATE, Jill. You know I have a special filing cabinet for that right?"

He bawled it up in his fist and tossed it in the garbage chuckling.

Jill blinked. She said, "Chris…I don't think that's a good idea."

Chris snorted and shrugged it off, "Ease back, Jilly BEAN. Sheesh."

He turned and moved toward the two desks that waited beyond the reception desk. They were pushed up against each other. Leon Kennedy sat at one. The other was occupied by a rather adroit and callous looking fellow with blonde hair and blue eyes. He had a stern countenance and an uptight demeanor. He wore all black and seemed grumpy.

Chris jumped up to their desks and shouted, "WASSSSSSUP!"

Leon choked on his soda. The other fellow shouted back, "WASSSSUP!"

Chris laughed. The other man donkey laughed. Chris pointed to him and said, "WESKERRR! How's those sales coming?"

Albert Wesker made a gun from his fingers and fired at him. "I'm ahead of this idiot beside me."

The camera panned to Leon. He rolled his eyes and shrugged his shoulders.

Chris turned to him. "Kennedy! How hard is it? Sell them the weapons already. Everyone needs weapons to fight zombies. COME ON!"

Wesker intoned, "Seriously, Kennedy. Get it together. You rookie."

Again, Leon's eyes rolled for the camera.

The camera cut off and spliced in footage from a personal interview with Chris Redfield. He chortled, happy, happy. And said, musingly, "You know…people say I'm just the best boss. The best. They say, "Oh, Chris, you're just HILARIOUS."" He reached over to pick up a mug. It told the world, in bold black print, World's Best Marksman.

Chris coughed, he looked a confused. He set it down and laughed. "So, that's the wrong mug. I left the other one at home. It said boss though. It said World's Best Boss."

The next scene spliced in Wesker at his desk locking various things in his drawers. He kept giving Leon a narrow look from his glasses. The camera panned to Leon, it panned back to Wesker. And Wesker hissed, "I know you're trying to take IT, Leon. I know it. You know it. Just admit it."

And Leon mused, "What's "it"? What am I taking?"

Wesker said nothing but he locked something else in his bottom drawer.

The camera cut next to a private interview with Leon.

He coughed, looking handsome if bored and slightly tired. "Yeah…my job is to sell weapons to anti-bioterror conglomerates. To stop the zombies ya know? It consists of…if they want it…if they can pay for it…or…uh…"

He sighed and charmingly quirked a half smile. He looked sheepish. "Sorry. I'm boring myself to death here just talking about it."

The little sound girl with Clancy the cameraman giggled. And Leon winked at her. "How you doin, sweetheart? Can I get your number for later?"

The cameraman remarked, blandly, "You're still on duty here, dude."

Leon sighed, shrugging, "Yeah. Story of my life."

The camera cut back to the office at large.

The door opened and a beautiful woman came through. She was stunning. Elegant. Statuesque. She had enormous breasts in a small, small, tight suit.

The camera cut back to Chris and he sighed, dramatically. "Excella Gionne – the "big boss". I call her the Big Titty Committee…although…"He coughed a little, "Ya know…not to her face."

In his office, Chris, Jill and Excella Gionne sat around his desk, discussing business.

Excella mused, "Anything you'd like to add to the agenda then?" In a rich Italian accent.

Chris seemed a little lost, "What agenda is that?"

Excella gave him a bored look, "The one I faxed in this morning for you."

Tugging on his collar a little, looking nervous, Chris laughed and said, "I – uh- hah- I never got one. Did I? I don't remember that. This office…needs some better efficiency huh? Jill – why didn't I get that fax?"

Jill was droll, bored almost, and responded, "Oh – you did actually. You had me put it in your special filing cabinet that was actually the garbage."

Chris looked stricken.

Excella looked long suffering.

Jill tried not to look amused.

Finally, Chris squeaked, "Hah…so yeah…I did that. It was a joke. My sister and I do that…ya know…with the bills…not really good for faxes though huh?"

Excella sighed and handed him the agenda, "Use mine."

"Oh, great, thanks."

"So, Birkin and the board met this morning and decided we can no longer justify a Raccoon City branch and an African branch. I let Josh Stone know over there as well."

Chris remarked, "That's…that's bullshit, frankly, Excella. There's no hope for Josh. He's half a salesman on a good day. And, not to put too fine a point on it, but Sheva can tell you how much better I am at…just about everything than him. Just sayin."

Jill shook her head, sighing.

Excella looked annoyed. "Stick to business, Redfield. Seriously."

The phone rang and Chris hit the button to answer it.

A voice came through, laughing and loud, "YO YO YO! Redfiiiield! It's Brad."

Chris laughed, loud and happy, "Hey Vickers the Nose Picker! What's up player?"

"Not much you QUEEEER."

Everyone in the room was quiet. Jill looked vaguely like she might pee herself with the need to laugh.

Brad Vickers came back to them, laughing, "Is Excella-from-hella comin in there today? I just got one question for that broad….does the carpet match the drapes? You know what I'm screamin dog?"

Chris clicked off the call. His face was bright red.

"…I'm…so sorry. That's…just…horrifying. And he's a horrible person."

Excella pursed her lips and said, "So…not a word of the closure, ok? I mean it."

"I'm bulletproof, swear to god. Not a peep. The BSAA is good at keeping secrets."

The camera cut to the other office worker's. First – a redhead with Chris' eyes standing beside a rather big, kinda dumb looking man. "I bet it's me, Parker. Me."

Parker shifted in his seat. "…yep. It's you, Claire. Probably you should just quit now."

The camera shifted to the break room where three other people were gathered. A big red haired man, a harried looking blonde in a lab coat, and a midget with a stupid hat. The midget squeaked, "I'm just saying…it's the little ones that go first ya know? I got the feeling no one around here liked me anyway."

His awful Spanish accent was loud in the small room.

The camera panned again to find Leon Kennedy leaning on the desk by the pretty receptionist Jill. She was speaking low and conspiratorially, "I hope it's Claire. I can't STAND the idea of another cat party at her house."

Leon grinned, eyes twinkling. "You got a better way to spend your Saturday?"

"Being mugged by the clocktower sounds better than watching "Mr. Nemesis" have another birthday. Jesus. It's a cat, Claire, not a boyfriend. She seriously has the WORST taste in men."

Leon mused, "Right? I'm pretty sure that Fisher guy she was sniffing around got fired for stealing from the company."

"Makes sense to me, he was shady as all hell."

"Maybe he'd still be here if he put his faxes in the secret filing cabinet."

Jill laughed, lightly, and touched his wrist. She turned to answer the phone. The camera stayed on his face and caught the little soft smile.

A little later, at the desk, Jill buzzed Chris in his office and he emerged, grinning.

"OH!"

A handsome man at the desk turned, grinning as well. "Hello, sir, hello. I'm Piers Nivans, I'm from the temp agency."

Chris shook hands with him, "Hello there, Piers. Welcome to the BSAA. Piers…like steers. Texas? Are you a cowboy? Do you like to ride rodeo? You seem the type."

Jill blinked.

Piers blushed and grinned, "Thank you. I don't. But you do, sir. You do. With…such…big…muscles…"

Jill glanced at Leon at his desk who bobbled his brows behind the young temp's back.

Chris grinned again, "Well thank you. I work out, a lot. But you've come to the "fight" place, Mr. Cowboy. This is a family of zombie fighting bad asses here. I'm sure you'll learn a lot."

"Oh, yes sir. Definitely sir. You're a bit of a legend out there. I'd love to learn…under…you."

Jill felt her eyes fly open so wide it actually hurt.

Leon choked on his soda at his desk.

Chris chortled with delight and declared, "That's what SHE SAID!"

The camera panned off again and Jill was in the office breakroom for her interview.

She mused, "I don't think I'd care if they fired me ya know? What kind of little girl sits around dreaming of working in an office as a receptionist? I'm…good at breaking into stuff. Weird right? But I've broken Leon into his apartment like fifty times in the last few months. He locks himself out a lot for some reason. He's always calling me at odd hours to help him. He's pretty dumb sometimes for a smart guy."

The camera cut back to Leon and Wesker. Leon was on the phone and his files started creeping over his desk, shoving against his phone and his pencil sharpener.

He hung up with his client and remarked, "Wesker…what are you doing man?"

Wesker peered at him hautily and replied, "Clearing my desk. I can't think this way."

"It's not on your desk man."

"It is. It's spilling over. Keep your things on your side, Kennedy. One word, two syllables: demarcation."

The camera panned back a few minutes later and Leon had lined his phone and the crack of his desk where it butted up to Wesker's with sharpened pencils.

Wesker sat down with a coffee cup and said stonily, "You can't do that."

"Why not? It's my desk."

"Firstly? SAFETY VIOLATION. I could fall and pierce an organ."

Leon glanced up, shrugging, and crossed his fingers, "Here's hoping big guy."

Wesker began striking the pencils like Whack –a-Mole with his phone. Leon laughed at the camera. "Gee, I hope I can get fired. If there's any justice in the universe, it'll be me getting downsized."

The camera cut to an interview with Wesker. He was rolling a paperweight in his hand. It a symbol of a snake eating its own tail. He was grinning, frighteningly. "I'm ok with downsizing. I've been saying that since the beginning. Humans have ignored this winnowing for far too long. It's time to cut the masses and see the chosen remain. I can barely stand it. It wouldn't be ending anyone…it would be saving them."

He looked a little maniacal. Clancy the cameraman shifted in his seat uncomfortably.

The camera cut away again to show a meeting in the conference room.

The big red haired man, Barry, remarked, "Tell the truth here. Is this place shutting down or what?"

Wesker was that the front of the room. Chris was strangely absent.

He answered, "Burton – you are old and past your prime. What do you care? Retire and remove yourself from service. You won't live much longer anyway."

Jill queried, "Why are you running this meeting?"

"Because today, I am the Captain of this ship. So, that makes me the boss."

Rolling her eyes, Jill asked, "Ok. Fine. Captain Wesker, where's Chris?"

Wesker narrowed his eyes at her, "He's coming. He'll be here soon enough…" He stared at her for a long time.

She finally shifted in her seat and asked, "What, dude?"

"You'd look better blonde."

Jill gave him the finger.

Chris poked himself into the room, "Everyone relax. Seriously. They'll have to come through me if they want to fire anyone here ok? I will punch them in the face for trying."

Barry rolled his eyes, "I don't think we believe you."

Chris looked offended. He said, determined to earn their respect, "Oh yeah? I would fight in a boiling volcano for you guys."

Dead pan expressions met him.

He tried again, "I would punch a mountain for you guys!"

Someone sighed.

The camera panned to Chris alone in his office. He laughed a little, "Ok…maybe not a mountain. But I'd punch a boulder for them. Easily."

The camera panned back to Leon alone in the room for his interview. He mused, "If I got the axe, what would I do with all this useless information in my head? The average infection rate of compounds in primates? ….Jill's favorite food? …it's sandwiches."

The camera cut to Jill. She was pinked faced, "He said sandwiches?" She laughed softly, "Well..he's on to me…"

From the background, Chris' voice called, "That's what she said!"

Jill looked less than amused.

There was a shout from the desk of Wesker. He called, "KENNEDY! You put my stuff in jello AGAIN!"

Chris wandered over with Piers in tow.

He glanced between them, "Hold on hold on. Judge in session here."

Wesker grabbed the stapler inside the towering mound of yellow jello. But Chris halted him, "You have to EAT it out, Wesker….that's what she said."

Piers grinned wide and happy like a puppy.

Wesker gave him a narrow look, "I expect there will be discipline for this, Chris. Meted out to the max."

Chris chortled, "Oooh. Discipline. That's naughty."

Piers looked at Leon and grinned. "I would be happy to help you with it, sir."

Leon glanced at Jill with a look of mild concern. She grinned.

And he said, "Ok. I'm sorry Wesker. I am. For making your stapler into a dessert. Because I've always been your biggest…flan."

Chris hooted with laughter at the pun. And Piers answered, "You should put him in "custardy" sir."

And Chris smacked his chest, hard. "HOHO! New guy! Score!"

The camera flashed onto Jill and Leon at her desk again. He was leaning on it and she was grinning. He said, "You should get that drink with us tonight. After work."

"Yeah? Just you…or…"

They both flushed a little and Leon answered, quietly, "Uh…all of us I think. If you want."

Jill smiled and their fingers brushed a little over the pencil on the desk. The door slid open and in walked a handsome man carrying a big garbage bag.

He stopped at the desk and Jill greeted him, "Hey, hey…"

The camera panned to her interview. "So, my fiancé Carlos works in the warehouse. We've been engaged for…three years? Since he took me to the hospital when my appendix burst at work one day. He's..uh…he's a good guy…"

Jill mused, back at her desk, "You wanna get a drink with these guys after work, Carlos?"

And Carlos gave Leon the long stink eye. They held gazes, both deadpan.

Finally, Carlos answered, coolly, "No."

Jill blinked and coughed at the abruptness. She finally filled the awkward silence with a small, "Ok. Let me uh…just finish my stuff ok?"

"Sure. Hurry up ok? I gotta foot bath waiting for me. My dogs is barkin, babe. Seriously."

Jill moved to the fax machine and Carlos glanced at Leon. Leon met the look equally. "You sure you don't wanna grab that drink with us?"

Carlos said again, "No."

"…uh…ok. What's in the bag dude?"

And Carlos rolled his eyes, "Just tell her I'll see her later ok? Hijo de la chingada."

He turned away and left the office. Leon blinked and shrugged at the camera.

It cut to Carlos in an interview and he grinned, "It's the accent man. Ladies love the accent."

It cut back to Leon's face looking at Jill. She wandered back over, smiling. She picked up her purse off the desk. "So…you wanna walk out together?"

Leon grabbed his coat off the back of his chair, "Yeah. You bet."

Jill dropped her keys.

She bent to get them. He bent to get them. Their hands landed on each other. They both stepped back pink faced and laughing.

She jingled her keys. "Hah. Thanks."

"Yup. Yep. You're welcome. Hah. Sure."

He slid his coat on – a nice thick brown with a sherpa lining. The collar was tucked under and Jill shifted, pulling it free to adjust it for him.

She remarked, softly, "This coat looks good on you."

"Hey thanks. I keep losing it. And once a weird Spanish guy on a bus stole it from me. But I love it."

She patted the collar. His hand lifted and cupped her elbow.

They watched each other for a long moment. Her hand shifted off the collar and skimmed his throat. And his eyes dropped to her mouth.

A horn honked outside. Jill breathed, gently. "So…um…that's Carlos."

"Yeah."

"See you…tomorrow."

"You bet."

She turned and hurried from the office. Leon raked his hair back from his face and eyed the camera, "Shit. Story of my life there."

And then he ducked and reached under his desk.

A hand towel was thrown over the thing on the plate that he carried into Chris' office and put on his desk. He removed the towel and there was the tower of jello. Inside it, a mug read: World's Best Fartsman.

Someone had inked over the Marks and changed it.

Leon glanced at the camera, snickered, and grinned.


End file.
